


Pushing the Maid

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Maid, Spanking, boy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colette is a no-nonsense kind of maid. [Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing the Maid

Colette was a slim, tall girl with her dark blonde hair done up in a severe bun. Her eyes were grey-blue and her skin a creamy pale. I could have leaned in the doorway of the kitchen and watched her forever, but she soon caught sight of me and gave me her best frown.

"Out!" she snapped.

Colette was the most recent maid hired by my mostly absent parents to take care of the house while they were off doing rich people things. Not only was she cute, but she was far younger than our last maid—a marked improvement. I wasn't certain of her age, and I wasn't about to ask, but she looked like she could easily be on the young side of seventeen, not much older than me.

I smiled and held my hands up, trying to look charming and non-threatening. "Sure, sure. I just wanted a snack," I said.

"Non," she replied, her accent coming through. "You had one already. I have much to do and you will be underfoot."

My grin slid into impudence. "And what are you going to do about it? You know I could fire you."

"Non," she said again. "You cannot. And you'll stay out of the kitchen or I'll spank your backside. Now out!"

She was so cute with her lips in a firm line and her cheeks flushed. I lingered to gaze upon her cuteness for long enough that she came after me, brandishing a spatula. Laughing, I ran from the kitchen and down the hall, her French curses following me. At the corner to the stairs, I paused to lean against the wall and catch my breath.

And I wondered if she had meant it.

Would she really spank me?

The idea stirred my groin, and I felt it grow hard against my jeans. I decided to test her, to see just how far I could push her.

After a wait of about five minutes, I slipped off my shoes and went back to the kitchen on sock-quiet feet. She had put a sheet of cookies on the counter only moments ago and when her back was turned, I dashed in and snatched a cookie. Stupid me, I wasn't prepared for how hot they would be. I cursed and dropped the cookie, knocking the whole sheet to the floor at the same time.

I shook my hand and blew on it, all my attention there for the time it took Colette to let loose a furious flurry of cursing I didn't understand. Then she had me by the ear. I had never realized before how much that would hurt. I tried to get away, but she pushed me against the counter, holding me there with her bodyweight, her copious breasts pressed into my back. Still muttering furiously, she reached around my waist with both hands to undo my pants. I tried to stop her, but she was faster and stronger. It was like she'd done this before. With one hand and one motion, she jerked my pants and underwear down, leaving me bare.

Then came the spanking.

It was wonderful and terrible, arousing and humiliating, painful and blissful. Her long, slim fingers pressed together into an effective spanking implement. Each spank was a fire that spread through me and set my heart to racing. My boyhood grew hard and tried to rise but was trapped by the cabinets under the counter. And no matter how I squirmed and wiggled, she kept her torso pressed into my back, holding me down on the counter. The combination of her breasts on my back and her hand on my bottom and my throbbing erection was enough to reduce me to a mess of tears, sweat, and frustration.

It can't have lasted for long, but when it was done I felt I'd endured an odyssey. Stumbling and sobbing, I let her push me from the kitchen. I made my way to my bedroom without remembering the journey and fell into bed where I rubbed at my bottom furiously.

And I realized I had liked it.


End file.
